


Broken Hearts

by Eowyn (eowynsmusings)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Post BotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eowynsmusings/pseuds/Eowyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the requests of almost all members of the Company, Bilbo leaves Erebor after the Battle of the Five Armies, thinking that Thorin has moved on and that there is nothing more than an uneasy friendship between them. But the past keeps haunting him, and letters from the Lonely Mountains and visits by the dwarves keep reminding the hobbit of what once was between him and the King under the Mountain. But the hobbit is certain that Thorin has moved on, and that it is best if he stays away. Can the hobbit's heart be swayed or will the two lovers forever be broken-hearted?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! My Hobbit Story, um, story :P Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it ;)   
>    
>  **Disclaimer:** All Tolkien Legendarium characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No profit is being made, no copyright infringement is intended.

_"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world..."_  
  
Thorin's words still echoed in his mind, words of apology and forgiveness, words of farewell. The moment the dwarf's eyes closed, Bilbo all but ran from the tent, searching for a place to hide. He found one, eventually, behind the very rock he had scaled to see Smaug fly to his doom, and that of Esgaroth. And there he pulled his most prized and precious possession from his coat; not his magic ring, but a small braid of his own hair, now slowly unravelling and held together only by a single bead.  
  
He still remembered the day in Lake-town when Thorin had asked for permission to place it in his unruly hair. And how long it had taken the hobbit to figure out what it had meant. Kíli, poor sick Kíli, had eventually taken pity on him and declared that it was quite obviously a braid of intent. That Thorin was all but asking the hobbit for a future. Together.  
  
Then came the night before their departure, without both Fíli and Kíli, and Bilbo had cornered their leader. "Thank you very much indeed for asking me before making your intentions clear to everyone but _me_ , Master Oakenshield." Thorin had shrugged, but soon after the dwarven king had grown tired of discussing the matter verbally and pulled the hobbit into his arms, growling that if Bilbo did not want this, he better say so now. The hobbit didn't. Say anything that was. And so their last night in Esgaroth had passed, and in the morning, Bilbo had limped onto the small boat they had been given by the Master.  
  
The day on the wall ended it all. Just like Bilbo had known it would. There was no way Thorin would forgive him for taking the Arkenstone, the hobbit had known, but still ... when the king's dagger cut the braid from his hair, throwing it at Bilbo's feet, the halfling's heart broke apart and into so many pieces that he was sure it would never be whole again. And now...  
  
Now the gold-lust had faded it seemed, and yet Thorin was forever out of reach. And as that realisation struck him, he began to weep, and did not stop until Balin found him. "Laddie! We've been looking all over for you. He'll live. Thranduil has done some elven magic and... He's not mended, but he won't die either. He will heal." Bilbo blinked, and for a moment hope filled his heart.  
  
Only to be quashed again the next time he met with the king. Thorin was still kind and friendly, and not one harsh word escaped his lips. But there also was no mention of what had been between them. Only barely there glances that spoke of regret. And soon Bilbo had convinced himself that the thing Thorin regretted was taking him on their journey in the first place. Of course. Maybe he also regretted ever giving Bilbo that bead, and was glad to be freed from the promises he had made that night in Esgaroth. And so, even as they rebuild their friendship in some timid way, Bilbo planned his return home.  
  
Fíli and Kíli, who had both been grievously wounded but were on the mend as well, tried to talk him out of it of course. They had not been around for most of their uncle's slow slide into ... insanity, but they had witnessed the exchange at the gates. "He is probably just afraid that you don't even want to think about any of it, Bilbo. He wouldn't have given you that braid if he didn't know that you were, well, his One." Kíli blushed as he said it, as the fourth occupant of the small tent gasped. Tauriel had a dwarven bead in her hair as well, and had probably not realised, until now, just how much it meant. She ran from the tent then, only to return moments later, just in time for Kíli to not lose all hope.  
  
Kneeling next to the chair the dark-haired dwarf was sitting on, she held out one of her daggers. "Do you remember? During the spider attack you asked me for a weapon, and I told you that I would never do such a foolish thing. But it is I who was foolish, and fooling myself. For if I cannot trust the one who has claimed my heart, then the world is truly cast in darkness and there is no more hope." And suddenly all thought of Bilbo and their uncle had dissipated, and was only spoken of again on the day of the hobbit's departure.  
  
"He doesn't want you to go, but he is afraid of asking you to stay," Fíli said as he was hugging Bilbo tightly. "Please at least give him a chance to try." The hobbit had agreed, if only to appease the blond, who was still recovering.  
  
But Thorin didn't try. He simply wished Bilbo a safe journey, pointing out how it would be so with the threat of Gundabad and Goblin-town removed, and even the spider population of Mirk ... no, Greenwood decimated. The only sign that the dwarf was maybe not all that happy to see their burglar's back was Thorin's heartfelt request to be allowed to write Bilbo. "You are a friend of Erebor, Bilbo Baggins, and always will be our most honoured guest if you wished to return to see us all. Even the dwarves of the Iron Hills are speaking only kindly of you. Of Bilbo the Burglar, Dragon-Riddler. You would be most welcome to ... return." And while the hobbit didn't miss that short pause, barely even there, he did not dare think about it too much. Then it was time to leave, and Bilbo did not even allow himself to hope for an embrace. So he simply held out his hand, and was shocked at how gentle Thorin's touch was. Barely he kept himself from crying, and only gave in to his tears when the city of tents surrounding Erebor had vanished behind him and Gandalf.  
  
"Fools. The both of you," was all the wizard said before huffing and pulling out his pipe. And when Bilbo inquired what he was on about, Gandalf just shook his head. "It's plain as daylight, and yet you're both too stubborn to see it and too afraid to even entertain the thought that the other might not hold as many grudges as you think." Plain as daylight? Plain as the dirtiest of dish waters more like. The wizard would say no more, and when he finally deposited Bilbo at Bag End, and they both evicted Lobelia, he didn't bring it up again. All he said was, "Be careful with that ring of yours, Bilbo Baggins. There are many magic rings in this world and none should be used lightly." Then he rode off and was not seen for many a year.  
  
Other visitors graced Bilbo's hobbit hole though. And even more ravens. Thorin was true to his word. He sent almost monthly updates on the rebuilding works, and always closed with the same line. _We all miss our dearest burglar, and would love to see him again._ Whenever one of the company visited with Bilbo, they echoed Thorin's words, emphasising just how much the hobbit would enjoy the hospitality of the dwarves now that they were rebuilding their home.  
  
And some, the brave ones who ventured beyond what might have been proper, Balin and Dwalin to be exact, did not stop there. "You know, lad, he's always asking about you. Whenever a letter arrives, he manages to corner the recipient to gather all there is to know about you." Dwalin had once again been sitting at his kitchen table, though he wasn't eating Bilbo's dinner this time. "Can you really look me in the eye and tell me you don't, at least sometimes, wonder... Oh come on! By the Maker, you were to be be married! How can this _friendship_ you have now ever be enough?"  
  
Well, if Dwalin was blunt, then the hobbit could be as well. "I don't know. Maybe the same way it is enough for you. Or have you told the one you hold dear how you feel? Has he told you? No. You're still pretending that friendship and duty are enough to last you. And for you it would be so much easier. There is no betrayal between you, no attempt at taking the other's life. Besides, he made it quite clear that he didn't regret cutting my braid and was only too eager to see me gone." Or at least it felt that way now, after all the time the hobbit had spent thinking about it all.  
  
The big warrior nearly choked on his tea. "You know something, Bilbo? For someone so smart, you are being exceptionally dumb right now. I don't expect any better from him, but you... You have no idea how hard it was for him to let you go, do you?" The hobbit huffed. "You really _are_ a fool, Bilbo Baggins. Balin hoped that if I talked to you, you might see reason. I've tried him, but you know how stubborn he can be. Not that its stubbornness that keeps him from reaching out. It's you! It's the way you left him. It's because he thinks it's for the best. For _your_ best. Because he remembers the fear in your eyes, fear of him. You think I could find happiness when my best friend, for that is what he is, is as miserable as a drowning cat!"  
  
"Maybe he's right. Maybe it is for the best. I do not belong halfway around the world, I belong here. In Bag End." The moment he said the words, he knew them to be a lie, but he could not bring himself to admitting as much. Not to Dwalin at least. "Thorin will get over it. He will remember how he first thought of me and find that he made the right decision when he cut _me_ out of his life. I will do the same, you'll see. There are many lasses who would love to be mistress of this house. Even a few lads." Dwalin's eyes sparkled dangerously, but Bilbo did not budge. "It is better this way, and by the time you return ... who knows? He might have found someone else to warm his bed at night."  
  
It happened faster than the blink of an eye. One moment, Dwalin was still holding on to the edge of the table, the next he, well, had a rather large chunk of the wood in his hands. The warrior was shaking with rage, and Bilbo stumbled from his chair and backed away. "You always stuck your head with my brother and Ori so one would think that you learned something about my people. But clearly you didn't. Or else you would never even dream of thinking that. Maybe hobbits are more flippant with their emotions, but for a dwarf love is sacred. You are right, I have not told _him_ how I feel, but that doesn't mean that I am just gonna go and sleep around with someone else. And neither will our king! But don't worry, I won't speak of it anymore now that I know what you make of it all. In fact..."  
  
Suddenly the warrior was on his feet, stepping away from the table. "I shall no longer trouble you with my presence, Master Baggins." He sneered Bilbo's name as if it was a curse. "I will leave you with your insane ideas of what the dwarf you once professed to love is doing in your absence. And I will discourage my brother from making Thorin see _reason_. For if it fails with you, it surely would with a cold hearted bastard you think my king is." Dwalin turned on his heels then, stalking out of the kitchen. Moments later the front door crashed shut, and Bilbo slumped back into his seat, heartsick. What had he done? That night, he cried himself to sleep, fearing that he'd had a chance, and that he had now forever blown it. There would be no coming back from this, would there?  
  
Over the following months, that fear grew to certainty, but then something seemed to begin to whisper to him, of how he could win Thorin back, of how he could have everything he ever desired. It took him a while to figure it out, but eventually it became rather painfully clear that it was his precious ring that was murmuring thusly. For a moment, he was tempted, but he was still Belladonna Took's son, and his mother would have had him by the ears if she'd heard about him taking the easy way out of a pickle he'd landed himself in. "No," he told the ring one evening, thinking himself rather foolish. "I do not deserve to simply win him back, not after all I said about him. What I thought of him. I don't know what will happen, but I don't need anyone's help. I got myself into this mess, and I shall try to get myself out of it. Only, I don't know how."  
  
One thing he did know though. Despite Dwalin's words, the ravens did not stop coming, the letters were still asking him to return to Erebor, and maybe not all hope was lost after all? And so Bilbo allowed himself to slowly plan a new journey east, hoping that maybe his welcome would be warmer than his leavetaking had been. Only, unbeknownst to the hobbit, he was already running out of time.  
  
It was five years after that first evening he had spend with the dwarves that Bilbo had finally decided that he really did not belong in Bag End after all. He belonged on the road, and missed the mountains. Or maybe one mountain in particular. He had just finished signing papers passing his smial to his cousin Drogo when his doorbell rang. Forcefully. The sun was setting outside, and Bilbo wondered who might call on him this late. Surely any respectable hobbit was at home enjoying their dinner or preparing it. His own stomach growled at the thought, reminding him that he, clearly, wasn't respectable any longer. He chuckled, slowly making his way down the hall when the bell rang again. "All right, all right. One moment if you please."  
  
In all his years, Bilbo would never forget how shocked he was when he opened his round door to reveal the two heirs to the Kingdom of Erebor and a certain elf maiden. "I'm sorry Bilbo, but..." Fíli began, only to be cut short by his brother. "You have to come back to Erebor with us, Bilbo. Please... I know we shouldn't be here pressuring you, but ... we don't have a choice. Not anymore." Brown eyes were big with worry, and when they filled with tears, the hobbit almost automatically opened his arms. The young dwarf didn't need any more invitation, all but crushing Bilbo in a tight embrace. "We missed you. We all missed you so much. But most of all, Uncle Thorin. He's ... he's not himself anymore. Bilbo, he's..."  
  
"Melethen? Let us take this inside? I do not believe Master Baggins will thank you for dragging all of this out into the open, on his front porch." Bilbo's Sindarin was rusty, but there was no doubt in his mind about that particular endearment. _My love?_ Oh, Thorin must be delighted about that development. "May we invite ourselves in, Master Hobbit?" Tauriel asked, bowing her head in greeting. And Bilbo could only usher them inside, his arms still full of teary dwarf. The elf maiden looked as misplaced in Bag End as Gandalf had all those years ago.  
  
It didn't take very long to get the two dwarves and the elven maiden settled in the drawing room. Well, as settled as possible as Kíli was pacing in front of the fireplace, wringing his hands whenever he looked at Bilbo. Whatever it was, the hobbit knew, it was bad. It took Tauriel's gentle touch to the young dwarf's shoulder to calm him ever so slightly, and once he was sitting in one of the armchairs, it was the elf who broke the silence as well. "I am sure you already guessed it, but it is about King Thorin. You see, he is not himself anymore."  
  
Bilbo's first thought was of the gold, and his throat constricted at the memory of being held over the high wall by Thorin, of his heart breaking at the hands of the one who held it in his palm. Fíli seemed to guess which direction the hobbit's thoughts were taking and he shook his head, "It's not the gold, Bilbo. I think he couldn't care less about any of the riches in the Mountain." He looked to Tauriel, seeking help.  
  
And the elf nodded, "It started innocently enough. He gave us his blessing to court, something neither Kíli or I had thought possible. Kíli was willing to leave his home to be with me, you see? But then, one day, King Thorin told us that we had leave to pursue ... what we wished to pursue. But then he said something under his breath that I think only I could hear. He said that at least his nephews should be able to be with the one they loved. That he would not destroy the happiness of another member of the line of Durin. Like he had his own."  
  
The hobbit blinked. Surely that didn't mean what he thought, nay, hoped it meant. "Bilbo ... he's filled his rooms with every little memento he could find. Anything that would remind him of you..." Kíli's voice was breaking and he needed to take a breath or two to steady himself again. "I was too happy at first to have been given permission to be with Tauriel, but even I realised before long that something wasn't right. And when mother arrived, she was giving him a piece of her mind on several occasions. But... He thinks he's had his chance and he blew it. In the most spectacular way. Do you really think, Bilbo, that he wanted you to leave? That he wouldn't have begged you to stay, or to come back, if he thought there was even the slightest chance... "  
  
"Peace, Kíli. I am sure Master Baggins meant no harm. He did not know either." Tauriel turned to Bilbo then and shook her head. "For years, the king was able to carry on as if nothing had happened, and only those who truly know him were aware that, well, nothing at all was alright. But this past year, the facade has begun to crumble. The king," she sighed, green eyes filled with compassion, "he is no longer himself. I do not think he sleeps very much if at all, and he barely eats. It is as if a new sickness has taken hold of him that has nothing to do with the treasure and everything... If he were an elf, Master Baggins, I would say he is..."  
  
"Fading," Bilbo whispered, tears clouding his vision. Tauriel nodded and squeezed Kíli's shoulder as the young dwarf was once again utterly distressed. And no wonder. Bilbo's stomach was heaving and he was sure he would be sick before long. "By the Valar, what an utter fool I have been," he muttered to himself, walking over to one of the side tables to pick up the papers that passed his home to Drogo. And he prayed that it wasn't too little too late. "I ... I was going to come back. I was just settling my affairs and then I was going to..."  
  
"You were going to come to Erebor?" Kíli all but squealed, his voice so very vulnerable and still so hopeful. And when Bilbo nodded weakly, he barely had time to brace himself before he was crushed to a strong dwarven chest in an embrace that knocked the air right from his lungs. "We were hoping you'd say that! Maybe it's not too late after all. Maybe..." And then the young dwarf began to weep, and if Bilbo was honest with himself, he wasn't far off either.  
  
"We thought we might be able to convince you to return with us for the wedding, but, Bilbo, if you were going to come back anyway..." Fíli smiled gently before joining his brother in hugging the hobbit. "It has to work, Kíli, it simply has to work."  
  
\---  
  
Looking back, Bilbo could barely remember the journey back to Erebor. He could recall Primula crying as she waved him goodbye and wished him all the luck in the world. And Lord Elrond, who's face had been drawn with concern, but who had assured them that Thorin was stronger than they gave him credit for. Other than that though, the journey passed by in a blur, and at the same time not quickly enough. What he would remember though, always and forever, was the first glimpse he got of the great gates. Gone was the gaping hole Smaug had left in his wake, and the dreadful wall Thorin had bid them all build in his madness. Great gates, made of iron the hobbit thought to himself, gold and silver worked into them in fine lines, and here and there set with precious stones. Banners were flying on the restored ramparts that luckily looked nothing like ... like ... _'Throw him from the ramparts!'_ He shivered. But that Thorin was gone, the hobbit knew it in his heart.  
  
He recalled the battlefield, and Ravenhill. When he had joined the king, his nephews and Dwalin, Thorin's voice had been warm as he muttered Bilbo's name, his eyes clear and sparkling with something... Something. Something never addressed after. It hadn't been only guilt and regret, no. Now, thinking of it, Bilbo knew it had been hope and... And then the goblins had come, and they had been separated, and everything had gone downhill from there. They had all survived, but things that should not have been left unsaid, were forgotten. According to Fíli and Kíli, Thorin had convinced himself that he was bad for the hobbit and had all but pushed Bilbo away, and Bilbo himself had allowed it. He had been a fool. A big fool. But regrets weren't about to make a difference. Action though, action would.  
  
"Welcome, to the Kingdom of Erebor," Fíli announced as they crossed the bridge, guards bowing to them as they passed. The gates stood open, and as they walked through them, Bilbo couldn't help but blink at the splendour around them. Fíli saw, and grinned, "Not the ruin you remember, is it? We've been busy. You will love the libraries. I'm sure Ori and Balin have written to you about them. And Bombur will wish to show you his new realm. And drag some more hobbit recipes out of you. I know he's been doing naught but that in all of his letters." That was true enough. The red-haired dwarf had been rather keen on finding out how to make certain things he had eaten at Bag End, and they had many a laugh, in writing, over it all.  
  
But before Bilbo could smile back at the blond dwarf, his eyes fell onto the two figures that stood before them now. Balin and Dwalin. The hobbit swallowed, remembering the last time he had seen the big warrior. Oh, he had been such a fool that day. The things he had said about Thorin, born of fear, and Dwalin's anger ... what would he think now that Bilbo had returned to Erebor? Balin was smiling, though strained, but his brother's features gave nothing away of his emotions. Still the both bowed as the four travellers approached them, and Balin's eyes twinkled with gladness when he rose again. "You two are in so much trouble, and you too, Tauriel. The Lady Dís was livid. Not that you left, but that you left without letting her know. I think she was about to send you on your way herself." He turned his gaze to Bilbo then, and before the hobbit knew it, the old dwarf embraced him and squeezed him tightly. "Thank Mahal, you are here at last. We were so very worried..."  
  
"How is he? How is Thorin?" Bilbo blurted out, pulling back to look his old friend in the eye. Somehow he had told himself that Fíli and Kíli had been exaggerating their uncle's condition, but to see Balin like this...  
  
"How do you think he is?" Dwalin growled, his glare piercing the hobbit through and through. "Still busy chasing every lad and lass he can get his greedy hands on, of course. He's not at all growing weaker and weaker because he's lost his One! Because that would be stupid, wouldn't it? So tell me, Master Burglar. Why have you come? To gloat? To let him see how you have moved on? Are you here to watch him die?!"  
  
"Brother! That's enough! I'm sure Bilbo..." Balin tried to stop the warrior's tirade, but he needn't have bothered. When Dwalin was roused, there was no way to halt him until his rage had run its course.  
  
"No! You weren't there, Balin. You didn't hear the things he accused our king of. Our friend. The dwarf he once professed to love!" He had briefly turned to his brother, but now Dwalin's attention was once more with Bilbo. And the hobbit wished he could simply disappear. "Have you come to see the string of lovers he's had? Are you expecting him to smile at you and introduce you to them? Why have you come?!"  
  
Bilbo's eyes had filled with tears, and he shook his head vigorously, "I am sorry. I don't know ... I don't know why I said these things, Dwalin. All I know is that after the battle, I had hoped for a sign, just a small sign, that Thorin wanted me to stay. And I would have. In a heartbeat. But he never did. He only ever spoke to me of friendship, if he spoke to me at all. And I ... I thought it would be best for all concerned if I tried to just pick up the pieces of my old life. It didn't work, it never worked. How could it? I still look at his braid every day, still hold it and think of the day he put it in my hair, and the day he cut it. I would have rather died than ... it would have been less painful. And all the things I said, I only did so because to think that he was hurting just like I was ... it was unbearable. I wanted only the best for him, and I thought the best was for him to move on. To forget me. I didn't know, didn't fully comprehend... Dwalin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never wanted him to get sick. Never wanted him to suffer. Even when he ripped my heart from my chest and threw it into the dirt, I only wanted him to be happy. Without me if that was what it would take."  
  
Fíli and Kíli were staring at him as he turned around to them, eyes wide. And Tauriel gazed at him with so much compassion that more tears fell onto his cheeks. "I am sorry. I didn't know. I didn't know! And I didn't listen, I know I didn't. I was stubborn and hurt and ... and it took Dwalin to make me think straight again." He turned back to the warrior and his brother, surprised to see how stunned they were. "It took a short while, but I was already planning my journey back to Erebor when Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel came to Bag End. And not because I hoped Thorin would take me back, but because I had to at least see him one more time. To tell him how sorry I am for all that happened, for betraying his trust when I was the only one he still confided in. He needs to know. And maybe ... maybe there is a chance still. You were right, Dwalin. I am a fool. And I know my mother would be beside herself over it. Livid. I nursed my bleeding heart and completely disregarded the fact that, maybe, Thorin was no better off than me."  
  
"Worse," Dwalin rasped. "He tried to kill you. I know he wouldn't have done it, _couldn't_ have done it. But you try to convince him of it. He's more stubborn than a mule, something that has not weakened even though the rest of him has. Even yesterday he told Balin that you're only visiting with the rest of the Company. That you probably dread seeing him again. He's an idiot and I'm glad that you ... well ... aren't as big a fool as I thought you were. He loves you, Bilbo. The whole bloody Mountain knows that he loves you! You'll see. And the whole Mountain was hoping you'd return. Even before he got ... ill. It's because he's never told you the truth. About us dwarves and our Ones. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I owe you. Even though I was angry with you and just wanted to strangle your scrawny little neck, you did make me think. About Ori. And, well, Ori was going to write you about it, but I asked him not to."  
  
"What my brother is trying to say so eloquently is that he and young Ori are finally betrothed." Balin was beaming, clearly happy with this turn of events. "Ori has never been happier, and Dwalin ... well ... when he's not worrying about Thorin, he's almost cheerful."  
  
Dwalin huffed, but when next he looked at Bilbo, he was smiling. And then, to everyone's surprise, he pulled the hobbit into an embrace. "He needs you, but he won't admit it. Especially now that he is frail and... It will come as a shock to you, to see him. He's not the dwarf you used to know." The warrior let him go then, and Bilbo was almost certain that there were tears in Dwalin's eyes. "Not a day passes now that he doesn't speak of you. Without realising it. He's calling your name in his sleep, when he manages to sleep at all. And he keeps trying to convince us that you're better off without him."  
  
"There was a day when he said that he hoped you had found a lovely wife, or a husband. That he would be happy for you. And we all knew that his heart was broken, and that there was only one thing for us to do. To fetch you back before it's too late." Kíli's voice was filled with sorrow, and his eyes wet with tears. And as Bilbo looked from Dwalin to the young dwarf and back again, he realised that they were making quite the spectacle of themselves. In the middle of the great entrance hall of Erebor. Folks were stepping around them, and some shot them worried glances.  
  
"Maybe we should take this conversation somewhere more ... private? And, if I am honest, I should like to see him. I need to start to make amends for my five year long insanity." Bilbo swallowed and took a deep breath before continuing, "I know it won't be easy. There are things that happened between us that need to be addressed, and spoken of properly. He needs to forgive himself for that day on the wall, and I have to explain why I took the stone... He forgave me, but I don't think he fully understands why I did it. And how sorry I am that I didn't find a better way. I should have simply asked for my share and given it to Bard and Thranduil, but..."  
  
"Laddie, it doesn't matter anymore. He will say exactly the same as me. You saw no other way and no matter how hard you tried to speak with him, he didn't listen. He didn't listen to his One. Trust me, you had every right to take the stone." Balin sighed. "And I'm not the only one who thinks so. Even Dáin agreed that you didn't betray anyone at all. On the contrary. You had no other choice. Thorin was set on fighting the elves and the refugees of Lake-town, and you did what every good consort would. You tried to prevent the loss of lives. Yes, you went about it in a rather unorthodox way, but you didn't steal the stone for yourself, but ... for our people. It was done honourably. And I think it's high time that you forgive yourself for it. Or how can you ever make Thorin believe that he can be forgiven? You took the stone from him, but he very nearly took your life."  
  
"He wouldn't have..." Bilbo whispered, and Balin nodded.  
  
"No, laddie. He wouldn't have. But that is one of the things he refuses to believe. He has build these walls around himself, this world of his own imagining. Where he is undeserving of you. And only you can make it right. _After_ you took some time to freshen up. Come. Let us take you to your rooms." Balin was already leading the way, and there was nothing to be done but to follow him.  
  
Still, every so often, Bilbo had to stop and look around. Much had changed since he had left Erebor, and wherever he looked, rubble had disappeared and made way for new forges and shops and workbenches. Fountains and beautiful decorations lined their path. Kíli fell into step next to him, grinning. "It was a lot of work, but with the help of the people of Dale, we have achieved much. We're not nearly done, though. There are many places still that are inaccessible, and even the mines only opened recently again. Well, I say recently. About a year ago. It seems Smaug was trying to get at some of the wealth within the Mountain himself, and nearly brought the entirety of Erebor down upon himself."  
  
"He's exaggerating, of course," Fíli chuckled. "But not by much. The mines truly were in a state. Even Uncle was smart enough to stay away. And Bilbo, he didn't most of the time. I think he was trying to get himself hurt at times. It started slowly after you had left. But now... When he's in the throne room, Dwalin will not leave his side for fear that he might have an accident. On purpose."  
  
"Aye," the big warrior agreed. "Or at least it was so until he heard that you are coming to _visit_. It has given him strength again, and he was busying himself with ensuring that your rooms are well prepared for you. And all the while he was still convinced that you wouldn't want to have anything to do with him. I nearly clobbered him over the head."  
  
Bilbo swallowed. He could remember Dwalin's anger well, and his exasperation. "Did you ever consider sitting him down the way you did with me and giving him a piece of your mind? It did shake some sense into me after all, even though you were not there to see it."  
  
Dwalin shrugged in lieu of an answer and before Bilbo could add anything further, Balin stopped them in front of a grand door, guarded by two dwarves in shining armour. "Here we are. The royal quarters. Fíli? Kíli? If I were you I would disappear. For a while. There is a market in Dale. Maybe you can find the ale your uncle likes ... to lessen your punishment for disappearing from court and travelling halfway around the world. And some silks for your mother. Though I don't think that will keep her from killing you. Though maybe Tauriel will be able to stop her." The old dwarf smiled up at the elf, and Bilbo blinked. Much to Balin's delight. "Oh, we have all grown used to having elves around. In a way, it is your legacy. After all, you worked so hard on restoring the ties of friendship between Erebor, Dale and Mirkwood before you left the Mountain." His smile faltered, and he sighed. "Though I wish you hadn't. I wish you had just listened to us and fought for what you so clearly desired."  
  
"Peace, Lord Balin," Tauriel interrupted. "Love can be frightening to say the least, and I am sure Master Baggins never intended for anything like this to happen. The days and weeks after the battle were not the time to set right certain wrongs, especially not with King Thorin still fearing a return of his gold sickness. I do hope that it is not too late. I can say this though. It is quite clear to me that you both love each other still. You could not stop asking about him, and he ... he keeps speaking of you. There is hope still, even though I fear, not for my beloved and Prince Fíli. Unless we escape this place. Now." She winked at Bilbo, who was shocked beyond words. Never before had he seen the elf maiden act this way.  
  
"She is right. I'm sorry Bilbo, but we must away. Mother won't care that I'm the heir if she gets her hands on me. And Kíli ... Kíli is lucky he has Tauriel to take care of him." Fíli grinned and quickly embraced the hobbit before turning on his heels and all but running down the corridor. Closely followed by his younger brother and Tauriel.  
  
Behind the hobbit, Dwalin was pushing open the door and before long, they stood in Bilbo's quarters. Which were rendering the hobbit quite speechless. Never before had he been anywhere this grand, and yet cosy at the same time. The furniture was dwarven made, but hobbit size, and Bilbo wondered if some of the items hadn't been Thorin's very own handiwork. There were shelves of books and scrolls, two rather comfortable looking armchairs by the large fireplace above which was a painting of the Lonely Mountain. And of Bag End. Bilbo's hand went to his throat. So it was true. Thorin had never forgotten about him at all and still longed for Bilbo just as much as the hobbit... "Please ... I need to see him. I cannot wait another moment. He has to know that I ... that I am so very grateful for this. If nothing else, he needs to know that I _do_ wish to see him. That I am not afraid of him. That I never was. I know I told him time and again before I left, but I know what he is like. If he thinks I'm better off without him, then he probably also believes that I am afraid of him."  
  
"He does. Bilbo ... I have found him several times out on the battlements, staring at the spot where he held you. He loathes himself for what he did to you, and never accepted the notion that ... in a way you had brought it upon yourself." Balin sighed and looked to his brother. "He loves you and can't get over the fact that he very nearly threw you to your death. And he also doesn't believe that he wouldn't have. He wouldn't, we all know it. Except for him."  
  
"Then what are we waiting for?" Dwalin interjected, frowning. "No time like the present, is there?" Bilbo nodded in agreement, and soon they were walking towards the throne room. The hobbit knew this part of the Mountain from before, but he was still shocked to see how much it was all changed. However, he could not truly focus on anything, his thoughts centred on only one thing. Thorin. How much damage had he done to the dwarf in his idiocy? He should have returned years ago, no, should never have left!  
  
Before long they were standing before the great doors, and Balin nodded to the guards at either side. "He is on his own, Lord Balin. As instructed. We have sent all the petitioners away, claiming that our King was in a very important meeting all day today." Bilbo shook his head at that. Of course the old dwarf hadn't left anything to chance. "By now, I'd wager, he will wonder what is going on. We have not informed him of Master Baggins arrival, but I wouldn't be surprised if he guessed something like it. He's been talking of nothing but the Hero..." Bilbo glared. "I mean our dearest hobbit for days."  
  
"Well, soon he'll be able to talk _to_ Master Baggins, which surely is better than only speak of him, don't you agree?" The guard nodded, and Balin turned to Bilbo. "Now, we can go in there with you, or you can go alone. It's entirely up to you." The hobbit smiled at his old friend, sighing. There really was no question, even though he was afraid. Even though he didn't know what would happen once those doors opened. "Alright then," Balin continued as if the former burglar had spoken. "Don't forget, he's still the same Thorin Oakenshield you knew. Even though his appearance has changed somewhat, I do believe there's still time to set things right. I know you care for him, and he does for you. That's the most important thing. Don't be afraid, Bilbo. Just listen to..." he gently touched the hobbit's chest, "this. Listen to your heart. It will show you the way."  
  
With those words, Balin stepped back, and Dwalin nodded once to Bilbo and then the guards and the great doors swung open. The hobbit had to swallow at how grand the throne room was, now that it had been restored to its former glory. But his eyes soon fell upon the throne, and the dwarf upon it. And they did not waver. As if in a trance, he put one foot in front of the other, barely noticing the doors shutting behind him. It was a long way to the throne, but each step seemed to be faster than the previous one and all too soon, and at the same time not soon enough, Bilbo was only meters away from ... Thorin. Thorin, who looked not only years, but decades older than he had the day they parted ways. Bilbo's heart was beating wildly in his chest as he took in all the changes his dwarf, _his_ dwarf, had gone through. His hair was more silver than black now, and lines furrowed his face, a face that was still the most wonderful thing Bilbo had ever seen. And his eyes ... oh those beautiful eyes were filled with so much pain as they fell upon the hobbit, disbelief and hope warring on his features. He had done this, he had put them both through so much agony by leaving for a home that was a home no longer.  
  
"Bilbo?" the dwarven king asked after the longest time, his voice weak, and yet still the same. And as always, the hobbit's knees turned to goo as he heard his name fall from those beloved lips and... Thorin struggled to his feet, and much to Bilbo's surprise and horror, he bowed before the hobbit. "It is an honour to host you once more, my dearest friend." Friend? _Friend?_ Oh, but Belladonna would not only have her son by the ears if she could see this, she would send him to his room without dinner for weeks! "We have all greatly missed you," the dwarf continued, and Bilbo wondered if this wasn't just a roundabout way of saying that Thorin had missed him. "And I see my nephews couldn't wait any longer and went to fetch you. I forbade such a thing, but I cannot bring myself to being angry with them either." There was a twinkle in the king's eyes that reminded the hobbit of _his_ dwarf. He had to hold himself in check or else he would have thrown his arms around Thorin, propriety be damned. "I ... I hope you find your lodgings satisfactory?"  
  
Bilbo's heart went out to the dwarven king at the doubt and worry in his voice, the way he clearly didn't know what to do with his hands, and... Oh, how he longed for Thorin's touch after all these years. It was as if they hadn't been apart at all, and then again, there was a chasm between them now that seemed unbridgeable. Thorin's pain was like a shroud, enveloping him from head to toe, and for a moment the hobbit despaired. This was his doing. Well, both of their doing. But it would be up to him to cut through the desperation, the agony. And then ... then, if he could achieve such a formidable task, he would have to find a way to mend the king's heart while being careful that his own did not break completely.  
  
"The rooms, oh, they are beautiful, Thorin. Thank you so much. You really didn't have to put so much work into them. And I saw a small terrace as well. Would you ... that is ... would you allow me to plant a few flowers and such? I am sure I can get seeds and bulbs in Dale, and..." Thorin smiled, weakly but he smiled. And Bilbo's chest felt suddenly too small to contain his heart.  
  
"They are your rooms, Bilbo. To do with as you please. I also took the liberty of asking Ori to prepare a corner of the library for you. With books in Westron so you can read and do whatever research you might wish to. He mentioned you might enjoy that." The hobbit snorted. Surely it didn't take Ori for the dwarf king to figure out that he would enjoy reading about histories and such. "Well, I know you will like it. I just ... I did not mean to seem too forward. But I have also instructed the other librarians to answer any questions you might have, and as a Friend of Dwarves, which you are, you are also allowed, if you wish, to learn all you wish of our language. You have saved my life, have saved their king, and that makes you a dwarf in all but ... well ... race."  
  
Bilbo smiled even though he wanted to cry at how unsure the dwarven king was. "Would you show me? Balin said that you are free for the rest of the day, as we are in a very important meeting it would seem. Would you ... would you show me around the Mountain? I left before much had been restored and now it's all breathtaking really. This ... room is not quite the right word, but this room alone is just magnificent. I remember how it was in the days and weeks after Smaug's demise, but now there is so much light here, and while it is still foreboding in a way, as it should be I suppose, it also is more welcoming and inviting."  
  
He was babbling, as he always was when Thorin made him nervous, but the dwarf didn't seem to mind. Quite the contrary. He smiled and nodded, "Lead the way then, Master Baggins. I will be happy to answer all the questions you might have." The dwarf seemed on the verge of saying more, but then decided against it. However, he was still smiling and that was a good start, Bilbo told himself. His heart was fluttering in his chest like a million butterflies, and he hoped that he would be able to pull Thorin back from whatever brink he was teetering on. And when the dwarf held out his arm to him, those beautiful blue eyes filled with so much fear of rejection, what else could Bilbo do but to practically leap to the king's side and place his hand on that still strong forearm.  
  
For a moment, memories flooded his mind, memories of being held by the dwarf, of the softest of touches and the gentlest of kisses, of rising passion and love that Bilbo thought would last eternally. And maybe it had lastest past betrayal and hurt, past battles and separation. Just thinking about it made the hobbit sick to the stomach. Why hadn't he listened?! To anyone? Why had he left Erebor without even considering that Thorin might be in even a greater state of shock than he himself had been in? Yes, he had stolen the Arkenstone, but it was clear that Thorin had forgiven him for that. The entire Company and Dáin had forgiven him for it. But the king ... the king had tried to _hurt_ Bilbo. And clearly he still carried the guilt over that with him to this very day. Well, words could only do so much, and so the hobbit decided to show Thorin that he was indeed forgiven. Though it would take time. And time they had once again. Time to set things right.  
  
When Bilbo returned to his rooms that night, he was giddy and his mind abuzz with all that he had seen. The library, oh the library was even grander than the one in Rivendell, something he had pointed out in the hopes that it would raise Thorin's spirits a bit. It had. More than a bit. "Maybe I should send a missive to Lord Elrond and inform him of the fact that one of his greatest supporters prefers the company of dwarves to his pointy ears." The hobbit had pointed out that he had said no such thing, but Thorin had pretended not to hear. They had shared a private supper, the king eager to hear more of the Shire and when Bilbo suggested opening up trade routes, Thorin had smiled, "And this is the reason why Balin wished you to return, I believe. To talk sense into me and suggest things that I had not even considered myself. I ... we have all missed you, Master Baggins. I..." But he had shaken his head then, and for a moment conversation had ground to a halt. But not for long. Bilbo began asking about Erebor and the surrounding areas, places he would like to visit and so on. And the king could not remain silent.  
  
When they parted ways, Bilbo knew beyond the shred of a doubt that he was still very much in love with the dwarf, and that Thorin reciprocated his feelings. There was no other explanation for his behaviour. And so Bilbo smiled as he sank into one of the armchairs by the fire, and began to plot exactly how he could convince his former betrothed that, as far as he was concerned, they had been granted a second chance. That he was more than willing to start anew and leave the past where it belonged. It wasn't going to be easy, but as his mother had said to him once, nothing that was truly important ever was easy. But if you were willing to fight for it, then you would likely be rewarded for your troubles.  
  
\---  
  
Over the next week or two, the king would spend a few hours with Bilbo each and every day, and every time they met, Thorin looked stronger. The silver in his hair was slowly becoming black again, the dark circles under his eyes disappearing. Still, they would not speak of Lake-town, or the days that followed. Nor the day of the battle or... Thorin avoided the battlements like the plague, not that the hobbit minded that particularly. He was shown everything else, and one day, they even ventured into Dale.  
  
"I have to say, Bard outdid himself. It's just like I imagine it was back in the days before Smaug came." Bilbo was in awe, much as he had been each and every day when the dwarven king showed him around Erebor. "It's prospering again, isn't it? Dale, I mean?" Thorin nodded with a smile that reminded the hobbit of an older uncle enduring his nephew's antics. Well, that wasn't a bad thing, and if Bilbo was standing in for Fíli and Kíli, who ... utterly terrified of their mother's wrath ... still hadn't returned to the Mountain, then that wasn't a bad thing at all. The funniest thing about the whole situation was that neither Thorin nor Dís were truly upset with the two young dwarves...  
  
The day after his arrival, after he had left Thorin so he could attend a very important and dreadfully boring council meeting, the king's sister had barged into the library, looking for 'her brother's hobbit'. From the start, the matriarch had made it clear that she thought her brother an imbecile who was incapable of making the right decisions and that it would fall to Bilbo to make him see the light of day. So to speak. "I am so very glad my good-for-not-much sons have decided to take matters into their own hands. Trust me, Master Baggins, I would have sent them to the Shire myself before long. I worry for Thorin, you see, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what ails him. He misses you, he misses what you once had. I've always wanted this for him. I wanted him to find his One. And yet, I should have known that he'd make a dog's dinner of it all. Oh, I've heard all about what happened, and I've to say you both acted rather stupidly. _After_ the battle. Strange as this may sound, I commend you for what you did with that blasted stone. You tried, when the whole lot of the others were simply gaping at my brother's descent into madness. You tried!"  
  
She had hugged him then, fiercely, to the point where Bilbo had to ask her to please stop crushing him. "Oh, I am sorry. I keep forgetting you're not quite as sturdy as the rest of us. And yet, in other ways, you are so much stronger than even the most powerful of dwarves. Your prowess lies within your mind, not your body, but this is exactly what we need. What my brother needs." She had sunk onto one of the benches then, sighing. "I worry for him. He needs you so very much and yet, he will not say anything about it. But he doesn't have to. You have seen him yourself. He is but a shadow of the dwarf I once threw pebbles at for trying to braid my hair." She chuckled. "I miss my brother. And I know that you do as well. You would not sit here, in a dwarven tunic and coat, if you were just here to visit I don't think. You want Thorin to see you in his world, to realise that you're not just the friend he thinks you to be."  
  
Bilbo hadn't been able to deny her words, even though he hadn't quite thought about it like that. He simply wanted to see the king smile again, and when he found the clothes in his wardrobe, he simply decided to try them. An he was right, Thorin had smiled, had beamed at him, and his heart had once again done this strange jumping thing. Dís had laughed then, clearly able to see right through him. "I can see why his heart has chosen you." Her eyes had sparkled for a moment, but then they had become serious again. "Don't give up on him, Bilbo. Please find it in yourself to forgive him and be strong. He will not believe that you still care for him, not when he convinced himself so nicely of the fact that you are better off without him. Please. Don't give up on him."  
  
Bilbo had promised, of course. Whyever wouldn't he? And since then, he had stuck with his word. However, it turned out to be even harder than Dís, or anyone else, had anticipated. Thorin was more than willing to take the hobbit's advice, maybe too willing at times, but he never spoke of more than friendship, never even touched Bilbo's cheek or ruffled his hair as he had been wont to do before. But still, things were looking up and every passing day was another small victory. Or so the hobbit told himself.  
  
Now though, as they strolled through alleyways and side streets in Dale, there was no doubt anymore that what Bilbo was doing, was truly working. Thorin's step was sure again, and while he grumbled at a pair of workmen for almost running them over ... they had been full of apologies even before realising _who_ they had so very nearly collided with ... he was smiling mostly, enjoying the warm summer's breeze. "It is a lovely day, don't you agree? Too bad that you insisted on visiting with Bard and his family. Although, if I'm not very much mistaken, that will be where we can find my nephews. It's high time they return to their duties. And face their mother. Though I somehow doubt Dís was very cross with them. I seem to have been rather ... unbearable of late, and she mentioned only yesterday that your presence makes me more tolerable. So I think I should thank you for saving me from being murdered by my own sister for being irritable."  
  
This was the most candid that the dwarf had spoken of his ... sickness since Bilbo had arrived, and the hobbit's heart was suddenly in his throat. There was so much he wanted to say, and yet all he managed was, "I am glad that I could make a difference and that you feel better. If I am honest, I was quite shocked when I saw you that first day. Now though, today, you look more like the dwarf I first met in my own little smial and less like you did when I took my leave from Erebor before." The moment the words left his lips, he knew he'd made a mess of things.  
  
Thorin nodded and frowned at the same time, his smile forced as he replied, "Quite so. I am glad though, that despite it all, you thought to return. That I have been granted the chance to win your friendship again."  
  
"Thorin, I..." The hobbit could not tell what he had been about to say for it was right then that they ran into Fíli and Kíli.  
  
"Uncle!" they both exclaimed as one, blinking and clearly unable to believe the change Thorin had undergone since Bilbo's arrival. "And our hobbit as well! It's good to see you again. I hope you settled in well and are making a home for yourself in Erebor?" Kíli was bouncing on his heels rather excitedly, and the hobbit felt the urge to hug him. Yes, he had not chosen his words well before, but the young dwarf gave him an opportunity to show the king that he was not going anywhere, that he wasn't going to leave again.  
  
"The rooms are wonderful, and there is nothing from home that I miss. Not even my garden." He smiled at Thorin who wouldn't meet his gaze. "Nor my books, or my armchair." And as he said it, he realised that the dwarven king had listened to him even though, at the time, he had not been Bilbo's biggest supporter, to say the least. "I know you will not join me in my excitement, but the greatest gift is having access to the library. Thorin ... your uncle has given me my own little corner to read and study, and Ori has started giving me lessons in Khuzdul as well." Kíli groaned and shuddered, and the hobbit giggled. "I am sorry, but I think it was a very thoughtful gesture. I know you might not be the scholarly type, but I am. In a manner of speaking."  
  
Thorin's expression was pensive, but at last he met the hobbit's eyes. "I am glad you are enjoying your time in the Mountain." Oh, by Yavanna! That sounded as if Bilbo was about to off and leave again at a moment's notice or something like that. But then the dwarf's eyes softened, and he smiled gently, "You are welcome for as long as you wish to remain amongst us. You helped us win back our home, and as such, it is yours as well. Erebor, I mean. Erebor is your home as well if you wish it to be."  
  
"It's not like he can return to the Shire anyway. He's signed over Bag End to someone else..." Fíli elbowed his brother in the side, but the truth was already out in the open. Something Bilbo hadn't spoken to the king about as yet, not knowing how to breach the subject. Well, he didn't have to anymore. "What?" Kíli grumbled. "It's not like it's a secret, is it?" The young dwarf then looked from Bilbo to Thorin and back, and gasped. "Oh. It was, was it? But why? Bilbo you..."  
  
"Yes, I wanted to go travelling, Kíli. That is right." He glared at the brunette, who shrugged. "To see the world once more. To feel the wind in my hair and smell the clean air of the mountains."  
  
"You gave up your home?" Thorin asked, a mere whisper. The dwarf's voice was filled with shock and disbelief, but also ... could it be hope? Bilbo nodded weakly. "Then you must allow me to formally offer you a new home within Erebor. You must stay here, with us, until your feet itch and you have to heed their calling. Though, I think all of the dwarves of the Company would prefer it if such a thing was not to happen for a long time. Including myself. I do value your opinion and already you have helped me make quite a few decisions I do not think I would have made without you here to ... guide me. I think Balin would be loathe to lose _the voice of reason_ as he refers to you. I seem to be more willing to listen to you than I ever was to him. Which might not be a good thing as he will start sending paperwork to you..."  
  
Thorin smirked then, and the hobbit forgot for a moment that they weren't alone and touched the king's arm, his own expression probably resembling that of a lovesick puppy. He composed himself quickly though once Fíli coughed politely to remind him that he and his brother were still there. "He already is," Bilbo said then, smiling. "And I don't mind it one bit. It's nice to be able to lend a hand. Otherwise I think I would feel rather badly before long. You see, hobbits like to be good hosts, and to take care of things, anything really. We make rather poor guests for long stretches of time so if you don't mind, I would like to help out where I can. Then I feel more like I belong here and less like ... like a simple visitor. Which, in turn, means that my feet won't be itching but wish to stay right where they are." His feet, his heart, there was no difference really.  
  
"That's good, because we don't intend to let you go anyway," Kíli quipped, grinning broadly. "Even though we can't go back ourselves just yet. You know she was in Dale the other day? Sigrid managed to warn us about a minute before she entered the market..."  
  
"You two are truly the fools I always feared you might be," Thorin interrupted his nephew's ramblings. "You know that she isn't really angry at you, don't you? Quite the contrary. You should have seen her face when she was told that it was you two and that tree..." Kíli raised an eyebrow and actually glared at his uncle, "I mean your elf. Your mother was rather thrilled and smug about the whole thing. So I would say you're safe. You might even get praised for running off into the blue without a word. And as far as I'm concerned, you have neglected your duties for long enough. I hope you enjoyed your holiday, for it is now over. Fíli, I expect you at the council meeting tomorrow, and Kíli, you are scheduled for the night watch. You may bring Tauriel if she's willing to give up on her rest for you." If that was not a roundabout way for Thorin to give his nephew and the elf maiden his blessing then Bilbo didn't know anything.  
  
The young dwarf had noticed it as well, for his face had lit up with the brightest of smiles right after the brunette's expression had turned sombre at the mention of his night watch duties. "I'll ask her straight away. Oh, and Bard is waiting for you in the Great Hall..." Kíli was already darting off in the direction of the market, and his brother watched his receding back rather amused.  
  
"I suppose it's up to me to gather our things then. Maybe Sigrid can help me. Oh, Uncle? She was wondering if she could have a look at some of the books we have about Dale in the olden days. There are some in Westron, aren't there?" He was looking at Bilbo now, and the hobbit nodded. And had to stop from grinning. Was Thorin aware that his heir had set his eyes on Bard's daughter? Surely he would not be as opposed to such a connection as he was, or had been, to Kíli's relationship with Tauriel...  
  
"Bilbo? Master Baggins?" Thorin was shaking him by the shoulders and the hobbit blinked. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that Fíli had left, nor that the dwarven king had been trying to get his attention. Now he was shaking his head with a fond smile, "I don't think I want to know where your mind went just then. But now that you have joined me again, shall we be off? You will love what the people of Dale have achieved. Obviously, I think we have done more these five years, but they haven't been trailing far behind us. Come. Let me show you." And they were off.  
  
Thorin had been right. Much had changed since he had left. Not that this was a great surprise. Five years was a long time, too long. However, he also had to agree on something else with the dwarf, not that he would ever admit it for it might make Thorin's head explode with a sense of superiority. The folk of Erebor had managed so much more, under harsher circumstances at times. And, Bilbo knew, they had still lend Bard's people a helping hand wherever and whenever it was needed. Still, Dale was beautiful, and he could already tell that if there was anything he couldn't acquire in Erebor and its various markets, he would probably find here. The former people of Lake-town were smiling at them and bowed their heads, some even cheering for 'King Thorin and the Hero of Erebor'. Much to the dwarf's delight and the hobbit's embarrassment.  
  
"You can't fault them for being happy to see us. I can't remember the last time I walked down to Dale, and you ... you have an ability to make everyone like you." He raised his eyebrows in question, and Bilbo chuckled.  
  
"It's called being nice to folk and not insulting them when you have barely even met them," he deadpanned with a smirk. "You should try it one day, oh great King under the Mountain. It might do you and your people good if you don't insist on alienating yourself all the time by being ... less than courteous." Thorin huffed, but it was clear that he didn't mind Bilbo's words. Still, the hobbit was not going to push his luck and instead changed the topic. "It is beautiful really, the city. And yet, Erebor has something that Dale does not. I can't quite put my finger on it, but even though there are many dwarves around, the city just doesn't feel like home. And the Mountain does. I know it's only been two weeks, but I don't think I've ever felt like I belong somewhere the way I do now. Thank you, Thorin, for allowing me to stay."  
  
The dwarf's face when through a myriad of emotions, but before he could reply, someone else's voice rose over the din of the market. "Ah, there you are. King Thorin and it really is you, Master Baggins. It is very good to see the both of you." Bard looked quite different from the last time Bilbo had seen him, regal and elegant in his long tunic and high boots. Like Thorin, he didn't wear his crown unless the occasion called for it, which was just as well. Thorin's crown was, according to the dwarf himself, a contraption made of evil; a torture device he wouldn't wear unless he had to. And Bard's was probably not far off. "I came down here to check if you had lost your way or something of the like."  
  
That made Thorin grumble and the hobbit giggled, thinking of the dwarf losing his way in the Shire. Twice. "I was just showing Master Baggins around your fair city is all. But I am sure there are things he would like to know about Dale that I simply cannot tell him. So it's good that you _found_ us. Not that we were lost." Bard nodded with a smile, and lead the way.  
  
\---  
  
Summer was slowly turning to autumn, and Bilbo's birthday was growing ever nearer. The fields around Dale were ready to be harvested, and the vineyards bustling with dwarves and men alike. Beekeepers were besieged for the sweet produce of their small charges, and every day a hunting party left Erebor and the human city returning with wild boar and venison, and the occasional fowl as well. Even a coney here and there. The latter somehow always ended up within the Mountain and on Bilbo's plate, for Bombur had quickly realised the hobbit's love of rabbit stew and a nice coney roast. The River Running seemed to burst with fish and crustaceans, and many an evening he and Thorin would share a fish dish that was completely new to Bilbo.  
  
"Hobbits don't eat fish a lot, do they? I mean, in larger quantities?" Thorin enquired one evening as they just finished their meal, and the hobbit shook his head.  
  
"The occasional trout and carp. We do have something like farms for the latter. Large ponds in the South Farthing. But crayfish is rare, and is thought to be rather extravagant. Also, we are less ... adventurous when it comes to the way we cook fish. You see, that night when you all descended upon Bag End, I had this lovely fried trout. Dwalin ate it all, but it was just fried in a pan, nothing like what Bombur does to fish. I have to say, I especially loved the baked salmon in that puff pastry. It was lovely. In the Shire, we rarely have salmon at all, and if we do, it's terribly expensive. To be honest, if you think of hobbits in general, it's very surprising that we eat fish at all, what with how much we _love_ water and everything that goes with it." Thorin looked at him apologetically, clearly remembering both the incident in Mirkwood and then their escape in, or in Bilbo's case, _on_ the barrels. "It's alright. I'm not your average hobbit, am I? Trust me, it was pointed out to me when I returned to Bag End in numerous ways. People called me Mad Baggins and such. I'm no longer seen as a gentlehobbit, and to be honest, I do not care."  
  
"I am glad to hear it. I would hate it if you had been ... inconvenienced because you decided to help us. Though I have to agree. You are not the hobbit I met all those years ago." Thorin's eyes were gentle and kind, and there was something about the way he looked at Bilbo that made the hobbit have to swallow. "You are stronger, and you believe now what Gandalf said about you back then. You have done so much for us, and if your fellow hobbits cannot appreciate that, then it is their loss. And our gain. I have said it before, but you have been missed so very much. I ... I have missed you." It was the first time that Thorin had said as much, the first time he had admitted what had been so plain to see since the hobbit had returned to Erebor. "And I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are lacking nothing at all. For I wish for you to stay here for as long as possible. I don't think I could say goodbye to you again. I still don't know how I did it that first time."  
  
"I still don't know how I managed to turn away from the Mountain, from you." Let the dwarf figure out if that _you_ referred to only himself or the whole Company. The way he averted his gaze told Bilbo that the dwarf understood the true meaning of his words. "Thorin... I was so angry for all these years, and now I'm just... Why didn't we speak after the battle? Why did we never..."  
  
"Please don't. Bilbo, please..." the king was pleading, and normally Bilbo would have stopped whatever it was that was making Thorin sound so timid and small. But he couldn't. Not this time. And so he stood and walked around the table, clearly unbeknownst to the dwarf, for when Bilbo gently touched Thorin's face and tilted it upwards, he gasped in shock. However, when the hobbit pressed his lips to the king's, Thorin did react. Though not the way Bilbo had anticipated. Thorin pushed him away, gently but firmly, shaking his head all the while. "No! No, Bilbo. I don't want this." Oh. Maybe Dwalin and everyone else had been wrong after all? Maybe Thorin was over... "I don't want your pity."  
  
"My pity?!" Bilbo exclaimed, stumbling backwards as if he had been slapped.  
  
"Yes," the dwarf nodded. "For that is what this is, isn't it? You have seen what I have become. What missing you had done to me. And you, you with your kind heart and generous soul are willing to forgive what transpired between us, what I so very nearly did to you, simply to ensure that I won't relapse." Thorin had lost his mind. That was the only explanation. "I don't deserve anything from you, and yet I am selfish enough to wish to have your friendship. But that is all I can allow. I broke every promise I gave you that day on the wall. I remember ... I remember the way you looked at me. Not with fear, no. But with so much disbelief and heartbreak that I still cannot fathom how I could go on with my ravings. I very nearly killed you, Bilbo, and for that I can never atone. Maybe dying from our separation was exactly what my deeds warranted. Maybe..."  
  
"Maybe you're also talking utter poppycock!" Bilbo very nearly shouted. His heart was beating faster than it ever had before at the nonsense _his_ dwarf was sprouting. For Thorin was still his. But instead of acting on his feelings, the dwarf was being utterly obtuse and idiotic. "Why do you think I came back, you silly dwarf?! Not because of your nephews or any of the letters I received. Not even because Dwalin destroyed my kitchen table tearing into me for being a complete fool. I was about to travel back to Erebor even before Fíli, Kíli and Tauriel showed up on my doorstep. And not because I pitied you. But because I finally realised what a mess we both had made of things. I can't ... I can't understand why I left, Thorin. Because every second of every day I kept thinking of you. I got very good at ignoring it, but you can only ignore a bleeding heart for so long. I hoped that there was a chance you were only acting the way you did because you thought yourself unworthy of what we had shared before that day on the wall. That you feared I might be frightened of you and so on and so forth. But I never allowed myself to believe that it might truly be so. I know better now. And as such, I won't just run and hide halfway around the world again, Master Oakenshield. Not again."  
  
Thorin has sat silently through the hobbit's tirade, but now he rose, although he was still hunched in on himself. "Bilbo. You're my One. I know I never said as much, but you probably have been told by now, and just what it means. I nearly killed you. That is unforgivable. The fact that you do not shy away from my touch, that you can be in a room with me and no one else ... it's incomprehensible to me. I don't deserve having you in my life, not after what I have done. But I cannot push you from it again. I ... but I cannot bear your pity. I cannot..."  
  
"Oh Valar, please save me from the stupidity of dwarves!" Bilbo snapped. "I don't pity you! Pity was the last thing on my mind when I saw you the day I arrived. You know what I wanted to do, Thorin? I wanted to throw myself at your feet and beg you to let me care for you. Because I bloody well still love you! I love you, and nothing you can say, or do, could change that. Besides, you wouldn't have done it. You could never hurt me, I know that deep within my heart. However, I shall also not stand here and listen to your foolishness. So, with your permission, I shall take my leave and return to my quarters. And just so there's no confusion about this, you are more than welcome to join me there. Once you think it's alright if I make my own decisions regarding who deserves my heart and who doesn't!" And with that he turned on his heels and stormed out of the king's rooms without a backward glance.  
  
He not only nearly collided with the two guards in front of the king's doors, but also with Dwalin. The big warrior looked at him from head to toe and then shook his head. "Alright then, laddie. What's he done now? You were getting on so well, but you look as if you want to strangle a mountain troll or spear another spider so clearly things aren't as grand as my dearest brother seems to think. Has our king put his foot in his mouth over something again?"  
  
Bilbo was seething and didn't care who did or didn't hear what he had to say. And so he simply pulled Dwalin aside a bit and began his tale. Or rant. Or both. "He seems to think that he knows so much better than I what is and isn't good for me. Especially when it comes to my heart. According to him and his wisdom, he doesn't deserve even my friendship anymore because of something he did five years ago when he was in the clutches of the bloody dragon sickness! But he is apparently too selfish to fight me on it. On me wanting to be his _friend_. Friend! The gall! I told him that he's being a pillock, and that I still love him, that I will always love him and that he can't do anything about it and thank you very much. And he told me that he couldn't bear my pity! Do I look like I would take pity on him?! I know that I was just as big an idiot for leaving in the first place, but seriously? What is he thinking?!"  
  
"Probably the same as you," Dwalin deadpanned. "I recall a hobbit who looked remarkably like you telling me that Thorin was better off without him and that he had probably already found someone else to warm his bed." Those words were like an ice bucket being emptied right above Bilbo's head, and he sighed and nodded. It was true. He had been rather stupid as well and had said things that were ... no, he wasn't going to dwell on that. He couldn't. The thought of Thorin moving on made his heart ache, as did the thought of what the dwarf had truly gone through. "I'm sorry," Dwalin muttered, seeing how pale the hobbit had become. "I'm just trying to point out that he's not the only one who can be unreasonable. Though granted, he is far more idiotic than you could ever be. I'll talk to him. He has to stop being foolish for it is unbecoming to our king. And besides, he's hurting not only himself with his behaviour, but you as well. And that is something he won't be able to ignore." He grinned suddenly, clearly already planning what he was going to say. "How did you leave things with him?"  
  
Bilbo shrugged, "I told him I was going to my room and that he was welcome to join me once he stopped being an idiot. Then I walked out on him. I just ... I couldn't stand the thought of him believing just for a second that I would only want to be with him because I feel sorry for him. He's still the same dwarf I ... I fell for, Dwalin. Nothing's changed. We're just both a bit older now, and maybe a little wiser as well. We've both made mistakes, but they are in the past. And yet, he's allowing his actions of five years ago to dictate his future. He nearly lost his life because of it. Thinking of that makes me so angry with him I just want to wring his neck! I wish ... I wish I hadn't left, Dwalin. I wish I had been strong enough then to fight for him and to not take 'no' for an answer. But instead I ran and hid, and told myself that everything was just fine and I hadn't just thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to me. How could I be so blind? How could I..."  
  
"The important thing is that your eyes are open now. And they are, aren't they?" Bilbo was quick to nod, and the warrior grinned. "Right then. Let me beat some sense into his Majesty... With words, I mean. Wouldn't want to break him before you have made good use of him once more." He wriggled his eyebrows making the hobbit both blush and ... flush. "Trust me, lad, once he's realised that he still has a chance at making things right, he won't let you slip through his fingers again. It was the same for me. You see, you were right, but Ori had given up on waiting for me to make the first move. So when I returned after my last visit, he was pretending to be interested in another dwarf. From the Iron Hills. I nearly took him apart during sparring. And after ... well ... Ori didn't leave me with any doubt about his feelings and dragged me before his brothers as well. I'm sure the same will be true for Thorin. I just have to convince him of it."  
  
Bilbo was slightly worried now, but then again, Dwalin was the king's best friend. If anyone could make Thorin see reason, it would be hopefully him. "I will wait in my rooms. And I swear that I will wait there until the end of time if I have to. I'm done running." Dwalin nodded, and without further ado marched into the dwarven king's chambers. And the hobbit ... the hobbit slowly made his way back to his own quarters. And there he waited.  
  
By the time he heard the softest of knocks at his door, he was a nervous wreck. Initially, he had been too angry still to think of anything but the desire to strangle Thorin just a tiny little bit, but as that anger subsided, fear took its place. What if he'd overstepped? What if the king were to send him away despite the knowledge of what that would do to him once more. What if he'd misread the signs and Thorin didn't want to rekindle their relationship despite them being meant to be together. The dwarf had only mentioned his own deeds on the wall that horrible day, but what of Bilbo's? What of the hobbit's betrayal? It appeared as if Thorin had forgotten all about it, but what if that was just a facade? What if...  
  
He had tried to read, had made an attempt at planting some new flowers in his garden, but he had been forced to give up on both. He could not concentrate on anything but his aching heart, and was now sitting on the steps leading up to one of his windows, poking at the various scrolls that sat in a small alcove. He'd lose this, and soon, he was almost certain of it. However, when the door opened to admit a rather distressed looking King under the Mountain, he was no longer so sure of anything. Well, except for one thing. Just how much he loved Thorin and how he had missed him for all of these five long years.  
  
He got to his feet even as the dwarf closed the door behind himself. And then they both stood rooted and simply stared at each other. Until Thorin crossed the room so quickly, Bilbo could scarcely blink. But what truly made his heart skip a beat was what happened next. Wringing his hands and biting his lips, the dwarf looked at Bilbo questioningly, searchingly, and then dropped to his knees. Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, was suddenly kneeling before the hobbit, and Bilbo didn't know what to do. Those beautiful blue eyes, eyes that held so much sorrow and misery, kept him captive, and he couldn't have moved even if he had wanted to.  
  
"Bilbo," the king whispered after the longest time, his voice raspy as if he had ... by the Valar, the king had cried! "I ... I come here against my better judgement at the behest of Dwalin. And of my own treacherous heart. I come here to beg you to stay. Do not ... do not leave me again, I beseech you. I don't deserve what you offered earlier, but I cannot bear the thought of living without it either. Dwalin told me that you ... that you thought ... that you told yourself I had moved on. That it was for the best for us to remain parted." Oh, but Bilbo would have words with Master Dwalin! "And it made me realise that I was not the only one hurting because of this. I thought staying away, being friends and nothing more, would be the best, but not if it affects you as well. I was so sure that after my deeds, you wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore, and as you did not speak of it after the battle, I..."  
  
"Thorin..." The hobbit had found his voice again, and wasn't going to allow Thorin to beat himself up any longer. "You're not the only one who's done things they're not exactly proud of. I took the one thing you desired above all else and gave it to your enemies. It doesn't matter that I did it to avert a war, I knew that it would hurt you, and I did it anyway. And I will never forget the look on your face when you realised what I'd done. I saw the tears in your eyes even as you cut your braid from my hair. I kept it, you know, and every day I held it and wished I had done things differently. Telling myself that you'd moved on was ... was only so it didn't hurt so much, Thorin. Because if you had moved on, at least you were happy. But Dwalin, he made me think. And I realised just how foolish I was being. I was already preparing to return to the Mountain when your nephews showed up on my doorstep. I couldn't ... I couldn't bear it anymore. And even if I could only have your friendship, I thought it would be better. To at least see you again, to hear your voice..." Maybe he didn't have to kill Dwalin after all.  
  
"You did the only thing you could have done and even that didn't wake me from my stupor, Bilbo. Do you know what did? Seeing the fear and heartbreak in your eyes as I held you down. Not straight away, once again it was up to Dwalin to shake some sense into me, but it was the memory of your beautiful eyes, Bilbo, of you, that made me realise that I had become just like my grandfather despite my protestations that it wasn't so. And when you came to Ravenhill during the battle, I thought my heart might burst from my chest. I don't know why I didn't beg your forgiveness then. By the time I could, I was certain you didn't want me anymore, I had convinced myself of it." Thorin looked away briefly, but then he held out his hands to the hobbit. "I swear to you that I will never hurt you again, Bilbo Baggins, if only you'll stay. As my friend, my beloved, or my consort, whatever it is you desire I will give it to you. But don't go. Please, Bilbo, don't go."  
  
What else could the hobbit do but take Thorin's hands and when the dwarf pulled him close, his arms now wrapped tightly around Bilbo's waist, the hobbit gently touched the king's hair, his brow, his cheeks. Within his chest, his heart was no longer aching, but soaring with joy. He had not been mistaken after all, Thorin still loved him just as much as he adored the dwarf. Kissing the top of the king's head, he whispered, "I was afraid you would send me away after my earlier actions. I was so worried that I would lose even that small part of you that I had regained. Your friendship has meant everything to me these past few months. I don't think I would have survived having it ripped from me again. Oh, Thorin. I would be whatever you want me to be. But what I would like, what would truly fill me with so much happiness I may burst, is ... is to have my braid back. I would be yours again as I once was, and I would have you stop blaming yourself for what happened that horrible day. We were both at fault, Thorin, not only you. In fact, had I not done what I did, you would never have held me down. Not that it matters. I know, Thorin, I know you wouldn't have hurt me. I could see it in your eyes. The agony and betrayal, the heartbreak. You couldn't have done it."  
  
Thorin's shoulders had started to shake halfway through the hobbit's little monologue, and it took Bilbo a moment longer to realise that the dwarf was crying. And when he felt the wetness on his own cheeks, he knew that he was, too. He dropped to his knees as well, and they remained like that for many minutes until their tears ceased and they glanced at each other as if for the first time.  
  
"My Bilbo..." the king murmured reverently, cupping the hobbit's face, and when he brought their lips together, it was everything they had both been dreaming of for all this time. Only, it was better than Bilbo had remembered, and he was positively light-headed and giddy when they pulled apart. Suddenly, the future looked so much brighter than it had only an hour ago, and while he knew that there would be obstacles they still had to overcome, the hobbit knew that eventually they would be fine. More than fine. Their broken hearts could be mended after all, and as he rested his head on Thorin's shoulder, he smiled to himself. He had come home at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr... [Eowyn's Musings](http://eowynsmusings.tumblr.com/). I know, the name's a big surprise :P


End file.
